Bad Blood - Chapter 9

p the sky if it fell, but her curiosity had already broken through her usual placidity.

Li Mujin tilted his head, his index finger resting against his lip in a contemplative gesture, observing her without addressing her doubts.

“You didn’t start the fire,” Ding Ke stated intently.

“I did.”

Ding Ke frowned.

“And killed someone too.”

While Ding Ke had struggled to discern truth from falsehood in his previous statement, she believed him without a doubt when he admitted to murder, though both claims needed verification.

And what about rape and abuse?

Aside from a whistleblower’s revelations, there was also an audio recording that had leaked. In it, a girl’s screams and curses could be heard, along with her fearful shrieks begging him to stay away. The perverse tone of the voice matched his during police interrogations.

Although the Forensic Department later announced that the recording was edited and post-processed to sound like him, the industry that sells voice packs and sound cards used this as a marketing opportunity, adding a layer of credibility to the announcement.

But some didn’t believe it.

With money and power, negative news could disappear from social platforms in an instant, so why couldn’t they fabricate a fake recording for the Forensic Department, or even directly influence the department from within?

The credibility of the system was completely undermined by frequent corruption scandals, making anything seem possible.

Thus began a fierce debate between two camps, escalating to verbal wars in comment sections of relevant news articles, which quickly became toxic.

Eventually, the platform blocked comments, and the controversy simmered down.

All the evidence of Li Mujin’s rape and abuse amounted to this much.

Ding Ke reviewed the case from the public’s perspective, thinking only the people involved knew which viewpoint was closer to the truth. She leaned towards Li Mujin and said, “You liked her, you took her by force, you forced her to do many things. But there were also things you couldn’t bring yourself to do to her, right?”

Her expression was sincere, making anyone believe she was merely an observer who had never come close to the truth. Li Mujin watched her perform: “Don’t you know how I treat you?”

As Ding Ke’s curiosity faded, Li Mujin showed no intention of engaging, and she was too weary to argue further.

Li Mujin watched her approach with a puzzled expression, leaning in as well. The two leaned towards each other in the driver and passenger seats, their faces almost touching.

“Want a kiss?” Li Mujin teased, their noses brushing against each other, his voice a whisper.

Ding Ke leaned back, sitting upright while disdainfully saying, “Who wants to kiss?”

Before she could fully sit back, Li Mujin’s large hand pulled her back.

“I do.”

He then kissed her, his tongue exploring her mouth at her moment of shock.

Kissing was more intimate than making love.

Their lips entwined, their breaths mingling.

Ding Ke didn’t resist, even allowing him deeper access.

Perhaps because he didn’t smoke?

The rush earlier had distracted her from this detail; there was no smell of cigarettes in the car or on him.

She never pried into others’ habits, but having inhaled too much of her mother’s secondhand smoke as a child, she instinctively kept her distance from smokers.

During university, she had suitors, but they were all kept at arm’s length by the smell of smoke.

She gripped her cotton dress tightly, the fabric crumpling in her hands.

Li Mujin enjoyed the kiss, releasing her lips but not her face, his forehead resting against hers as he breathed deeply with closed eyes. “Did you remember anything?”

Ding Ke repeated her stance: “I’m not her. You’ve mistaken me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

He didn’t specify whether her failing to remember or her denial was what didn’t matter; he was firm in his belief either way.

Ding Ke freed herself from his grasp, her expression annoyed as she exited the car.

Li Mujin watched through the rearview mirror as Ding Ke walked away with determination. Her background, personality, and story were too perfect, which itself was suspicious.

After seeing Ding Mao, he was even more convinced of his correctness.

He wasn’t in a rush; she would slip up eventually, and he would uncover the purpose behind her act.

Ding Ke walked briskly, not noticing the signs and absent-mindedly entered a one-way street.

Standing by the road, she stared at the lush pagoda trees, lost in thought, her lips glistening in the sunset.

After some time, Li Mujin passed by and stopped in front of her.

She snapped back to reality but didn’t look at him.

“Beg me, and I’ll take you,” Li Mujin said crudely.

Ding Ke turned her head away, treating him as if he were air.

Li Mujin didn’t persist and drove off.

Ding Ke was oblivious, not realizing the road had no traffic signs; she was unaware, and Li Mujin didn’t inform her.

But she didn’t mind, lost in her thoughts as the evening cooled, enjoying the breeze.

Ten minutes later, Li Mujin returned, this time without a word, he got out, picked her up, and roughly threw her into the car.

Ding Ke struggled to find her balance as the car started.

“I didn’t ask for your help!” she shouted from the back seat.

Li Mujin remained unfazed, looking every bit the antagonist from any angle, ignoring her outburst.

From the back, Ding Ke could only see his hands on the steering wheel, his open cuffs revealing his pale wrists and forearms, leading up to his prominent jawline.

She stopped talking, turning to look out the window instead.

She knew the man in front of her wasn’t a good person, even if he hadn’t committed murder. But as someone attracted to the opposite sex with a normal sense of aesthetics, it was impossible for her to remain completely unmoved by him, so she chose to look less and calm herself more.

The two drove in silence until Li Mujin parked the car at the east entrance of Normal University during dinner time. The area was bustling, and as soon as he stopped, passersby gathered around, curious to see the person inside the rare Knight XV vehicle.

Ding Ke didn’t pause; she got out and walked away as soon as the car stopped.

Li Mujin, knowing many were watching him, called out through the open window, “Keke.”

Ding Ke kept walking, feeling a chill down her spine, but she didn’t stop. As long as she kept moving, she could spread the message that she wasn’t close to him.

Although indifferent to gossip, avoiding being the center of attention saved her from a slew of troubles.

Li Mujin didn’t hold any malice; he called out once and made no further moves.

But he stayed at the east entrance of Normal University for half an hour.

As soon as Ding Ke returned to her dorm, Zhang Miaomiao sprang up and dashed to her, quicker than she moved at meal times.

“Are you crazy?” Zhang Miaomiao asked, her head tilted in rare seriousness.

Ding Ke set down her bag and sat down, massaging her neck. “Which part are you referring to?”

“Every bit! Why did you go to the hospital? Why did Yu Tai get beaten up looking for you there? Ajia messaged on WeChat that Li Mujin drove you to the east entrance! And he was showing off, staying there for half an hour.”

Ding Ke turned on the speaker, connected it via Bluetooth, and played music. “Link them together, and you have your answer.”

Zhang Miaomiao thought for a moment, her eyes widening as she pulled up a chair next to Ding Ke, eager for drama. “Wow, sis! They’re fighting over you! How do you feel?”

“Is that the point?”

Zhang Miaomiao paused, then realized, “Oh, right, Li Mujin. He’s the scumbag I swore I’d never fall for.” She reminded Ding Ke, “I regret saying you might have a chance to get close to him because of your name. Better not get too close. The truth about the case doesn’t concern us, and your safety is more important. I don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night to news of a dismemberment case with you in a suitcase.”

Ding Ke smiled helplessly. “That’s an exaggeration.”

“You don’t understand. Online, they say suitcases are a must-have accessory for beautiful women.” Zhang Miaomiao remembered Li Mujin’s history. “And he’s got a history with this kind of thing.”

“Given my field of study, I should be able to sense danger sharp enough to counter-attack him before he can harm me, and put him in a suitcase,” Ding Ke joked as she opened her laptop.

“That’s the spirit,” Zhang Miaomiao occasionally had such insights. “Modern women should prioritize themselves, enjoy handsome men without bearing the cost.”

Ding Ke started her homework. “Dismemberment cases usually happen to people who think like you.”

Zhang Miaomiao sighed. “Is there no way?”

“There is. Women are slightly more intelligent than men on average, so we should take their jobs and become their bosses. When you can decide the fate of most men, even if an extremist appears, others will deal with him for their own interests.”

Ding Ke multitasked, speaking off the cuff as she worked.

Zhang Miaomiao frowned, feeling it wasn’t simple, and pulled out a notebook. “Slow down, I need to take notes.”

Ding Ke knew she was just being playful, and ordered two milk teas online. “Go pick them up at the door.”

Zhang Miaomiao pouted, playfully resentful. “How can a girl be so good at handling me? This girl is too amazing!”

Ding Ke smiled lightly, not responding.

Li Mujin’s academic days were inconsistent, rarely participating in special training, treated as a rare species by his teachers. Women often envy others who are more beautiful and successful, leading to feelings of inadequacy.

Men are different; they always believe they’re the best.

They saw Li Mujin as a spoiled rich second generation, using his slight wealth and good looks to act superior.

As a result, they didn’t care to engage with him, except Sun Li, who would talk to him after classes.

Sun Li had a cheerful demeanor, his voice gentle, reminiscent of a more outgoing Shu Rui.

“Want to grab a meal?” Sun Li’s first words to Li Mujin.

Dressed in white athletic wear, Li Mujin looked youthful, almost like he was two years younger.

“What’s there to eat?” he asked, feeling quite hungry.

Sun Li recommended a place. “There’s a roast goose restaurant near the south entrance. It’s the best in Zhan City.”

Li Mujin agreed, and they walked towards the south entrance. Yu Tai, his head wrapped in a white bandage, rode up from the direction of the artificial lake. Seeing Li Mujin, his expression darkened, and he braked sharply.

Sun Li greeted Yu Tai. “Haven’t seen you in a few days. Did you hurt your head?”

Yu Tai glared at Li Mujin, teeth clenched.

Li Mujin didn’t even pause.

Sun Li didn’t say much to Yu Tai, hurriedly catching up with Li Mujin while waving goodbye, “I’ll come to your dorm tonight, send a WeChat if you want anything specific for dinner.”

Yu Tai then asked, “Where are you headed now?”

“Taking the new students to have roast goose,” Sun Li said, picking up his pace.

As Li Mujin stepped out of the school gate, he saw Fu Zhizhi and a few others waiting for him. Fu Zhizhi came up, arm over Li’s shoulders, a cigarette dangling from his lips, twirling car keys in his hand: “Opting for the sunny route today, huh? Why so creepy?”

By Fu’s side were friends he had made in Zhan City, brought over to meet Li Mujin.

Perhaps due to a difference in social cultures, these few had flushed faces and thick necks, reeking of tobacco and alcohol, cursing as they approached.

A slightly overweight man with glasses, chewing betel nuts, pointed his chin at Li Mujin and asked Fu, “This your best buddy? Why’s he look like a specimen, been on Playboy or something?”

His companion laughed until his shoulders shook, “Idiot, you ever heard of guys on Playboy? Our buddy here is a dude, just too pale, looks like a lady.”

Fatty nodded, “Yeah, Playboy’s meant for the old men to watch.” Then he suddenly leaned towards Li Mujin, blowing a cloud of smoke laced with alcohol in his face, “Hey, you read it? You’re not just into girlie comics, are you?”

“Ha ha ha!” Their laughter was boisterous.

Fu Zhizhi clicked his tongue at him, “Chao-Ge is just joking, I brought you here because we’re strangers here, need to look after each other, why the teasing?”

The men, who ran an internet café in Zhan City, had a broad network of acquaintances. Fu had met them by chance, thinking it a useful connection for Mujin to have in the city, so he wouldn’t have to bow down to his father if something came up. However, these people judged others by their appearances, and their words were uncomfortably blunt.

A skinny one then said, “Making friends, right? Can’t even take a joke, how do you make friends?”

Fatty glanced over, “Damn, such a killjoy, outsiders really have no manners.”

The buzz-cut who was always joking said, “First, let’s invite our new friend to a barbecue at Fox Moon Bay, then we’re brothers. Don’t say we’re extorting you; anyone else would have hosted a banquet at Hongru Restaurant, but you, being so fair and handsome.”

Fatty gave him a mocking smile, “Damn you, you flirt, you can’t leave men alone either.”

They spoke in their local dialect, with jokes filled with Zhan City’s peculiar and choking slang, a blind spot for Li Mujin and Fu Zhizhi. Sun Li understood but felt it wasn’t quite polite, especially since Li Mujin remained silent. As the host, he stepped forward to mediate, “Let’s not make jokes about ladies and gentlemen, okay? Since we’re friends, let’s speak nicely.”

His tone was gentle, but Fatty still pushed him hard enough to make him fall.

“Ouch!” Sun Li landed on his buttocks, spreading his hands to see small stones embedded in his palm.

Fatty turned to Fu Zhizhi, “This one’s not our brother, right?”

Fu Zhizhi was also a bit irritated, “Enough already, right? Shared a drink thinking we’d get along, brought you to meet my brother, and this is how you repay the favor?”

Fatty and his group didn’t like to listen, flicking away their cigarette butts, leaning in, “What’s the matter with you, Fu Zhizhi, begging us like you were your grandson before? Thought treating us to a meal would make us buddies?”

“Beat him!” the skinny man instigated, stepping up to Li Mujin, propping his foot on his shoulder, glancing towards Fu, “Your brother can’t socialize, are you two the same? I see you’re dressed fancy, got money at home, right? How about this, host a table at Hongru Restaurant?”

They blatantly tried extorting the outsider, and Fu was clearly aware of the problem, no longer showing them a friendly face. Yet, outnumbered by these four or five, he thought to stabilize the situation while contacting a few more friends.

Engaging with local thugs required local methods.

Li Mujin had been silent, standing casually, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a phone, checking a message from Shu Rui.

Shu Rui mentioned he would arrive by evening, just in time for the gathering.

He replied okay, pocketed the phone, and removed the hand resting on his shoulder, stepping towards his car.

The skinny guy and Fatty were not pleased, “What an attitude!”

The buzz-cut moved quickly, catching up just as Li Mujin opened the door to a large SUV, stopping abruptly. He didn’t recognize the car, but it looked like one only the very wealthy could afford, instinctively shivering, glancing back at his friends.

Fatty and the others hadn’t expected this; they had been talking about this car earlier, and it turned out to belong to this man?

They hadn’t reacted yet when Li Mujin had already pulled out a shotgun model. It differed from a real gun in two ways: it couldn’t shoot, and it was made entirely of steel.

Fu Zhizhi slapped his forehead, thinking, “Done for. These guys really have bad luck, messing with the wrong person?”

Sun Li was puzzled.

Li Mujin didn’t waste words, starting with the closest, he hit his face with the butt of the gun, swiftly swinging it in a half-circle, striking another’s head, blood splattering onto his pure white tracksuit.

Sun Li was shocked, unable to move.

Fatty and his group sobered up, exchanging glances, cursing as they charged at Li Mujin.

With a weapon in hand and quick reflexes, Li Mujin struck down each one who approached. The south entrance was secluded, but soon, seven or eight people gathered.

Fu Zhizhi stopped someone trying to call the police, eloquently describing a scenario where local thugs attempted to extort and rob an outsider.

Perhaps they had similar experiences; they sided with Li Mujin, uniting with him.

Li Mujin’s violence was almost brutal. Violence might hold back, but brutality rarely does.

Blood stained the trees, screams filled the air, passersby would stop, but none dared to step forward.

Just like a recent social news story, a woman was stabbed by her husband in the street, nearby strong men ran faster than the children passing by.

This was normal.

This was human nature.

Tired of fighting, Li Mujin approached Fatty, who was lying on the ground crying and gasping for breath, squatting down, his voice calm and serene, “Tell me, what magazine do you read?”

Fatty, too scared to speak, convulsed, crawling backward, whimpering as if his tongue had been cut.

Li Mujin found his silence impolite, frowning, stepping on his ankle, “Isn’t it your head that’s bleeding? Why can’t you speak? I might need to check your tongue.”

Tears streamed down Fatty’s face, “Play… Playboy…”

“Why are you crying?” Li Mujin raised his hand to slap him.

Fatty immediately stopped crying.

Li Mujin nodded in satisfaction, “That’s right, didn’t your elders teach you that men don’t easily shed tears?”

Fu Zhizhi chuckled from the sidelines, recalling each of Li Mujin’s classic scenes.

Li Mujin was done playing, he used their clothes to wipe his gun, placed it back in the car, and instructed Fu Zhizhi to call an ambulance, turning to a stunned Sun Li, “Let’s go.”

After a moment, Sun Li stammered, “Go, go where?”

“Aren’t we having roast goose?”

Sun Li scrambled to his feet, “Oh, right, roast goose.”

Fu Zhizhi caught up, “I’m coming too! I haven’t tried it yet!”

As Fu Zhizhi opened the passenger door to get in, Li Mujin kicked him out without explanation, making it clear he wasn’t coming along, very straightforward.

Fu Zhizhi was too embarrassed to complain, admitting today’s events weren’t handled smartly.

Ding Ke finished her morning classes and didn’t return to the dormitory with Zhang Miaomiao. Holding a worn black cloth bag, she left the school alone.

Near the north gate was a Bank of China self-service branch where she withdrew some money. Coming out, she spotted Yu Tai waiting by her shared bike, seemingly waiting for her, pausing to give him a chance to speak.

Yu Tai told her about the recent incident at the sports university’s south entrance: “You didn’t see how fierce he was, after beating up those guys, he just went to have roast goose like nothing happened. Now, all that blood, the street cleaners will need two hours to deal with it. You understand, right? He’s violent, he’s killed people!”

Ding Ke nodded, acknowledging his words, “Hmm.”

Yu Tai became anxious, “Don’t be fooled by him, you just share a name with his past girlfriends, once he realizes you’re not her, you’re done! You think you can survive?”

“Hmm.” Ding Ke took in his words.

But Yu Tai felt she was being dismissive, speaking rashly in his agitation, “I thought you were different from others, didn’t expect you’d overlook your principles just for looks and money.”

Ding Ke did not defend herself, “Then you know.”

Yu Tai looked up, her expression neutral, and felt he had spoken too harshly, stepping forward, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean that.”

“It’s okay if you did.” Ding Ke was calm.

Yu Tai’s shoulders slumped completely.

Of course, it didn’t matter. She didn’t care about him, so how could it matter?

Huayuan Roast Goose.

After the incident at the south entrance, Sun Li became somewhat less talkative, his smile somewhat forced.

Li Mujin didn’t mind, eating the roast goose calmly, even elegantly. His blood-stained white clothes drew constant glances, but he ignored them.

Sun Li had recently thought him emotionally unstable, prone to bursts of violence, but in this moment, he was as quiet and gentle as the good children parents talk about.

Li Mujin approved of his recommendation, “Indeed, not bad.”

Sun Li was momentarily stunned, responding softly, “Glad you like it…”

Li Mujin finished eating, paid the bill, Sun Li didn’t even get a chance to offer. Maybe it was his aura. As soon as he said, “I’ll take care of it,” Sun Li fell silent.

But Sun Li remembered to buy something for Yu Tai, paying for a whole goose to take away.

As the two left, Ding Ke just happened to arrive by bike.

Sun Li naturally recognized Ding Ke, the well-known talented and beautiful girl from the university town.

Li Mujin stood on the steps, watching the radiant person.

A few days since their last meeting, her face was still flawless, her waist seemed slimmer, perhaps her chest was fuller? How did she manage that?

His eyes weren’t equipped with a measuring device, but he remembered her dimensions, noticing even the slightest changes instantly.

Ding Ke parked her bike to the side, turning to face Li Mujin directly.

He, in his strikingly youthful white clothes, would have seemed even more innocent if not for the bloodstains.

Under his cap, his gaze towards her was sorrowful, numb, and even though he was bloodied, it made him appear as innocent as an injured silver-white long-haired cat, capable with his face and contrived expressions of making humans offer everything for him.

In fact, he had just engaged in a unilateral fight.

Perversity was his underlying trait; he only pretended to be innocent.

She breathed lightly, stepping towards him.

Sun Li stepped aside, recognizing a familiarity between them.

Li Mujin stood a step higher on the steps, forcing Ding Ke to look up more than usual, the midday sun blazing like fire, making her eyes sparkle like diamonds.

Ding Ke had nothing to say to him, throwing the old bag at him, turning to ride her bike away.

Li Mujin grabbed her wrist.

She turned back, looked at his hand, then up at him.

Li Mujin was unmoved.

Ding Ke indicated, “Let go of my hand.”

Li Mujin’s grip on her wrist slowly moved down, turning into a hold on her hand.

Ding Ke grew annoyed, pulling back, but unable to free her hand, increasingly irritated by his condescending tone, “You can’t pull like that.”

“I don’t need your advice.”

Li Mujin pulled her towards him.

Ding Ke, unprepared, eyes wide, stumbled forward, inevitably falling into his embrace.

Li Mujin’s voice came from above, “Learn anything?”

“No!” Ding Ke’s heart skipped a beat.

Li Mujin easily picked her up as if she were a doll.

“What are you doing!” Ding Ke felt a loss of balance, startled.

Li Mujin placed her on the hood of his car, his arms bracketing her, looking up at her, “So stubborn.”

The hood was too high off the ground, forcing Ding Ke to involuntarily grasp his shoulders.

Li Mujin moved a half step closer, making it easier for her to hold on, “Yeah, and quite timid.”

“You’re sick!” Ding Ke cursed.

Li Mujin enjoyed seeing her flustered, and crying, but since their reunion, she hadn’t shed a tear. Was she no longer capable of crying? How could he make her cry?

As he pondered, Ding Ke kicked him in the chest, he stepped back two paces, she took the opportunity to jump off the car and escape on her bike.

Li Mujin looked down at the footprint on his shirt, then up at her retreating figure.

Her strength wasn’t enough to push him away.

But what did stepping back two paces matter?

Sun Li brought over the black bag he had left at the restaurant entrance, handing it to him.

He took it, recognizing by touch that it was money, weighing it roughly at two hundred thousand.

She had returned the money, in a way to avoid adding him on WeChat. To avoid adding him, she didn’t mind making the trip, nor the risk of withdrawing money.

Quite a hassle.

He reacted indifferently, tossing the money into his car, silent all the way.

Sun Li was even quieter.

Li Mujin didn’t return to the university, nor did he inform Sun Li, taking him directly to an evening birthday party. Whose birthday he didn’t know; there was always someone celebrating, and the gathering was essential, why they gathered not so important.

Sun Li didn’t dare ask when they would return to school. Li Mujin’s friends, seeing Sun Li had come with him and was in his car, were neither lacking in courtesy nor enthusiasm.

As they became more familiar, Sun Li forgot about wanting to return.

It was his first time attending a party on a yacht, endless fine wines, and a bevy of beauties. Even as a vegetarian, he wanted to see the world and observe how another class lived.

Li Mujin, seemingly having organized too many such gatherings, was numb to it. With music blaring, he went up to the top deck’s salon to sleep.

Li Mujin was woken by the sound of waves, not large, but their slapping against the hull was loud, and he was a light sleeper. He opened his eyes to see Shu Rui across from him, listening to music through headphones.

He didn’t speak, sitting up, reaching for mouthwash, rinsing his mouth, spitting into a bucket, then calling the chef to order two dinners delivered up, hanging up before eating a slice of pineapple.

Shu Rui removed his headphones, teasing, “Didn’t see your blood-stained white clothes.”

“Thought I’d gift them to you.”

“I don’t want them.”

Shu Rui glanced at the black cloth bag beside him, “Changed styles? Not carrying the new season?”

Li Mujin turned to look at the bag, opening it and pouring its contents onto the table.

Shu Rui was surprised, “Ho, setting up for a gambling game later?”

Li Mujin didn’t respond, his attention caught by a familiar hospital note, the one he had given to Ding Ke, with eight words he had written. He instinctively flipped it over, spotting a string of nonsense letters, but almost instantaneously, he knew it was her WeChat.

Hooked, wasn’t he?